


Contact

by chocolatemoosey



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 15-year-old keith, 17-year-old shiro, Carrying, Crushes, Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Galaxy Garrison, Holding Hands, Huddling For Warmth, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Matt is a little shit and I love him, Matt teasing Shiro and Keith, Mr. Holt is a Cool Dad TM, Mutual Pining, Pre-Kerberos Mission, Sheith Secret Santa 2016, Shiro's moms, Snowed In, Swearing, Underage Drinking, Unresolved Romantic Tension, a smattering of angst, car games, immature teenagers, keith was a hooligan when he was a kid, references to mental illness, terrible boner jokes, you can pull my music jokes from my cold dead hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 07:04:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9061525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocolatemoosey/pseuds/chocolatemoosey
Summary: “Heeeeey Shiro,” Matt finally responded, sounding more than a little sheepish and mildly scared. “So yeah hey you remember that time I said that things were probably not an issue and that everything was okay? That was a good time, thirty minutes ago.”
   “Yes?” Shiro replied, completely suspicious. “Matt, what’s going on?”  “So there was,” Matt coughed. “An avalanche.”Matt is determined to get Shiro and Keith to confess to one another over their trip to the Holt family's cabin, but when Shiro and Keith end up stranded there alone, things go much differently than planned.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fcllencngels](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fcllencngels/gifts).



> Merry Christmas fxllenxngels!!! When I saw you wanted Matt teasing Shiro and Keith as well as Garrison Age sheith, I absolutely had to write this. This was super fun to write, and I hope you enjoy! I /am/ sorry for cramming every cliched trope in here that I could, but I am not sorry for every 2007-fanfiction-style song joke I fit in here.
> 
> Also what are teenagers like??? I hope they act like teenagers do these days, haven't been a teenager for a few years. This takes place four years before canon, so hopefully everyone is appropriately immature, lmao.
> 
> Also this ended up about twice as long as anticipated, hence why I had to break it up into chapters.
> 
> Much love!
> 
> ~Moosey

 “You,” said Matthew Holt to Takashi Shirogane, pointing at him in an accusatory way with a French fry. “Are in love with Keith Kogane.”

Unlike in most romantic comedies, Shiro did not choke on his drink and spray Matt with a heaping mist of raspberry tea. Instead, he froze in horror mid-sip before gently setting the drink aside and staring off pointedly into space. Matt watched with glee as the color drained from his friend’s face, shoving the fry into his own mouth.

They were sitting in a Burger King a bit north of Santa Fe off of Highway 285, the counters still decked with cheap paper Christmas decorations despite the fact that it was New Year’s Eve. Matt and Shiro were sitting alone, Keith having abandoned them for the bathroom and Mister Holt perusing the menu for dessert. Despite the fact that it was not his birthday, Matt was wearing a cardboard crown over his beanie, looking every bit like the Lord of Shit that he was.

“Well?” the brunet pressed, leaning towards his longtime friend.

“It’s not like that,” Shiro responded. But by the way his eyes were darting every way accept Matt’s face combined with the way-too-obvious blush on his cheeks, this was clearly a lie. It was definitely Like That™.

“Uh-huh,” Matt hummed, completely unconvinced. “Nope, no – you hate him, which is why you let him rest his head on your shoulder the _entire trip_ up from Albuquerque.”

“He was _tired_!” Shiro reasoned, still too thoroughly embarrassed to admit the truth. He could be the poster child for anxiety with the way he was jogging his leg.

“From doing what?” Matt quirked a brow. “Staying up all night making bad decisions?”

Shiro opened his mouth to defend his friend, but it closed with a click. Anyone who wasn’t an instructor at the Galaxy Garrison knew full well that Keith Kogane liked to spend his free time sneaking alcohol onto campus and getting sloshed alone in increasingly strange locations. Just the night prior, Shiro had found Keith in the gym wrapped up in a volleyball net and crying about how he knew aliens were real and that they were probably very lonely.

“What if they just wanted to make _friends_ , Shiro?” Keith slurred as Shiro half-carried him back to the honors dorm. It was pretty sweet that Keith apparently thought about such innocent things under his ‘I don’t give a crap’ exterior, but the amount of screwdrivers it took to get to that place was concerning.

(Shiro was also fairly certain that this drunken adventure was the reason Keith had been sleeping in the car and was probably getting sick in the bathroom).

Once they were alone, Shiro rolled Keith up in a comforter like a burrito and set him on his side on the couch. Keith had then wigged around and whined until Shiro got out of bed, picked Keith up, and tucked him close like a body pillow. It wasn’t the first time they’d crashed together in Shiro’s extra-long twin, but it still made his heart flutter all the same. Keith was such a guarded person, and it felt really intimate that he trusted Shiro enough to share a bed with him.

“Uh- _huh_ ,” Matt intoned again purposefully, stealing a chicken nugget off of Shiro’s plate. “That’s what I thought.”

“We’re just really… close is all,” Shiro argued, already feeling himself losing the argument. It wasn’t a lie; the pair had been inseparable since Shiro’s junior year, whether Keith wanted it or not. The problem child freshman had been gifted to Shiro under the pretense of a ‘mentor program’, which was really just the Garrison’s way of giving Keith a babysitter that didn’t have to be paid. Just over a year had passed since then, and already the shift between them was monumental. Things had changed dramatically – from Keith only referring to Shiro as ‘Narc’ and making his life hell, to the pair of them sitting quietly in Shiro’s room all night holding hands and having deep life conversations.

A lot of friends held hands platonically.

…okay, so maybe Shiro _was_ a little into Keith. Or a _lot_ tle.

Before Matt could continue his interrogation, Keith returned from the bathroom looking grey in the face.

“Oh _Keith_!” Matt said a little too brightly. “I saved you a seat _right next to Shiro_.”

Keith grunted in acknowledgement, plopping down next to Shiro, who was glaring hard at Matt. He unwrapped his bacon cheeseburger and pulled out the bacon, gnawing on the crispy strips miserably. Shiro reached over to pat his friend on the shoulder, to which Matt wiggled his eyebrows. Shiro, although he was never one to make a crude gesture, was seriously considering flipping him off – or at the very least texting him an emoji of a middle finger. That’d show him.

Mr. Holt finally returned to the table, surprising them with four slices of ice-cream pie.

“Don’t tell her, but I’m kind of happy Matt’s mom isn’t here to monitor my sugar intake,” he winked dramatically at Shiro, who produced a kind laugh.

“They aren’t going to let you go to space if your blood is more sugar than plasma, Dad,” Matt argued, even as he dug into his own dessert.

 “What’s a treat every once in a while?” Samuel nudged his son in the ribs with an elbow, looking across the table at Keith. “You alright there, son? Not feeling too hungry today?”

“No,” Keith shook his head, looking far too tired to put up his ‘hotshot loner’ façade and choosing to look miserable instead.

“Maybe we’ll stop to get you some ginger ale,” Mr. Holt nodded decisively, stealing away Keith’s dessert for himself, which was then promptly reclaimed by Matt.

Father and son then whipped up a good-natured argument over the pie, during which Shiro leaned over to Keith and rested a hand on his knee under the table. Or at least he had intended to, settling it right on Keith’s thigh. Turning bright red, he readjusted his hand and nervously continued: “Thanks for tagging along, Keith. You didn’t have to come if you were feeling this bad.”

“It’s my own damn fault,” Keith grumbled back, picking apart his burger like a little kid. Shiro sighed internally. “Besides, I promised you I’d go to the cabin.”

Or, rather, he had promised Matt. Katie, the youngest Holt, was stuck at home with a sinus infection, and her mother was also staying behind to look after her (since the last time they left her with a sitter for more than three hours she’d managed to reroute all of the calls to the city morgue to their house phone without the old lady noticing a thing). Matt had made a beeline for Keith the second his dad suggested he invite another friend to the family cabin for New Year’s so it wouldn’t be so lonely.

This was Shiro’s second year spending the holidays with the Holt family. A car crash had left him orphaned his freshman year, and his sophomore year had been spent abroad with his grandparents. Matt absolutely refused to leave his friend alone around Christmas once he’d returned to the States.

Knowing Keith was a foster with no living family in contact, Shiro had attempted to include him at every possible opportunity at the Holts’ insistence. However, Keith had adamantly refused at every turn until Matt had slick-talked him into agreeing to the trip, leaving a dazed Keith in his wake.

“Takashi,” Mr. Holt said suddenly after he and Matt had meticulously divided the slice of pie with the accuracy of literal rocket scientists. “I’m losing your face with you hunkered over like that.”

Shiro, who was still ducking close to Keith, brushed a lock of dark hair behind his ear, apologizing sheepishly.

“You really ought to cut it,” Matt said decisively before propping his chin up on his hand, grinning at Keith. “What do you think, Keith?”

Keith squinted at Shiro and – to the upperclassman’s horror – reached over to brush more hair out of his face. Shiro immediately turned red at the brush of callused fingertips over his forehead, resisting the urge to give Matt the nastiest look in the world as the brunet did the world’s tiniest victory dance in his periphs.

“I think it’d look nice short,” Keith decided, withdrawing his hand after what seemed like a small eternity.

Before Shiro could even sigh in relief, Mr. Holt stood up and carried his tray over to the trash cans, “Welp, we should get going while the coast is relatively clear – don’t want to be stuck in traffic during a snowstorm!”

“It’s not supposed to snow until later,” Matt hummed, checking his phone for details. Mr. Holt held up a finger sagely.

“It never hurts to be extra-safe. Check and double-check, Matthew: that’s something you’ll need to remember in space.”


	2. Two

After tossing their trash out (Matt asserted the crown wasn’t garbage and insisted on wearing it all the way to the cabin), the four clambered into the Holt family SUV and settled in for a game of Contact.

If there was anyone as violently competitive at driving games as Keith, Shiro would’ve liked to meet them. Keith had destroyed several Uber drivers at Name That Disney Tune, crushed an entire busload of cadets at The Animal Guessing Game, and nearly gotten violent over a game of I Spy in a train car with a total stranger.

“The Golden Gate Bridge is _golden_!” he’d all but howled as Shiro held him back. “That’s why they call it the _Golden Gate Bridge_ and not the _Orangeish-Red Gate Bridge!_ ”

“CONTACT!” Keith shouted, a little too enthusiastic for someone who’d just been puking Sunny-D and vodka. Matt responded in turn.

“One, two, three—,” they chanted in unison.

“Marshmallows!” Matt cried, while in the same instance Keith yelled:

“Marble soda!”

“Damn, that was a close one!” Mr. Holt smacked the wheel gently, turning up the narrow street that led up to the Holts’ cabin. Snow was already beginning to gather on the asphalt, the hush of wind steadily picking up as they ascended. “Alright kids, we’ll have to finish up when I get back from the Safeway. Who wants to come with me?”

“ME,” Matt said very loudly, raising his hand so enthusiastically he smacked the roof of the car. Mr. Holt laughed.

“Calm down, son – I mean, everyone knows how much you _love_ toting the luggage up the stairs but—,” Samuel began, even as Keith unclicked his seatbelt and began to climb out of the car.

“No, let _us_ get it,” he insisted. “We’re your guests.”

“Yeah Shiro,” Matt smirked over his shoulder from the shotgun seat. “ _Gosh_ , so ungrateful!”

Mr. Holt lightly bopped his son on the head, nearly disturbing his Burger King crown, “Alright, that’s enough! I’ll make you clean out the shed if you don’t stop sassin’ your friends.”

“But it’s what I _do_ ,” Matt flopped against the car door dramatically as Shiro rolled his eyes and climbed out as well.

“Key’s under the front mat,” Mr. Holt informed him as he rounded the SUV to pop open the hatch. “I came up last weekend to set everything up, so we should have power and hot water. If anything’s wrong, just give us a call.”

“Thanks Mr. Holt,” Shiro smiled, giving him a wave through the rear-view mirror. Samuel turned all the way around in his seat and waved the teen off.

“I’ve told you a million times, Takashi! Its _Sam_ ,” he scolded playfully. “Now what do you want from the store?”

“Oh no, you don’t have to—.”

“Hostess cupcakes,” Keith replied in his stead. “And strawberry Nesquik.”

“Traitor,” Shiro grumbled, heaving the last suitcase out of the car.

“Don’t worry, Shiro! I would’ve just brought you back an entire pound of sugar if he hadn’t said anything,” Matt soothed mockingly.

“Alright you two, now stop picking on him!” Mr. Holt sighed, shaking his head at his son.

“But he’s an easy target!” Matt pouted. “And also I’m sixteen and you don’t need to yell at me for picking on my friends anymore.”

“And here I was hoping you’d outgrow it.”

On that note, Shiro shut the back hatch and brought the suitcases around the car to allow Mr. Holt to pull out back into the road safely, Keith standing on the other side of the SUV. As the car turned, Matt looked through the window at Shiro, opening his mouth and shoving his tongue into his cheek as he jerked a fist below his chin and then flashed Shiro a double thumbs-up. Bright red, Shiro did flip him off that time, causing Matt to break into peals of laughter silenced through the car door. The car pulled away and Shiro pushed a hand through his hair, sighing deeply.

“I really need to catch up to Matt,” Keith observed, picking up Matt’s backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. “I had no idea he gave you more hell than I do.”

“You give me hell in a different way,” Shiro informed Keith, picking up a suitcase with either hand and scaling the steps that led up to the cabin’s porch. The cabin was bi-level, so it stretched around it to become a balcony on the other side, complete with a generously-sized hot tub.

“Ritzy,” Keith commented, flipping up the door mat with the toe of his boot and crouching to grab the key.

“You should see the inside,” Shiro laughed. “They have a projector hooked up to the Nintendo so we can play Mario Kart.”

“‘The Nintendo’?” Keith arched a brow at Shiro, smirking while he fiddled with the key. “What are you, forty?”

“…I forget what the newest one is called,” the other admitted quietly.

Rolling his eyes, Keith popped the front door open and stared around at the living room. It was large, but mostly crammed full of Mrs. Holt’s kitschy decorations with uncomfortable button eyes. Keith edged away from a demonic-looking stuffed doll on a wicker chair, nearly managing to bump into Shiro. His friend immediately dropped the handle on the suitcase he was toting and helped to steady Keith by the shoulders. Keith may or may not have intentionally leaned a little too far into the trip, if only to get closer to Shiro.

“You okay?” his upperclassman asked, smiling at Keith in the most disgustingly serene way. Keith nodded a little, trying to will away the blush from his cheeks. At the very least, he could use the chilly air as an excuse.

However, Keith was beginning to pick up on the fact that maybe his crush wasn’t as subtle as originally anticipated. Matt had approached Keith when they’d been stopped at a gas station in Rosario, Shiro and Sam having gone inside to purchase snacks for the trip.

“So,” Matt had begun conversationally, not looking up from his phone. “You totally wanna marry Shiro, right?”

Keith – who’d been more preoccupied with staring into space while his hangover thrummed through his brain – turned to Matt with a completely mystified expression. It had taken several solid seconds for the suggestion to process, after which Keith walked away and stood behind the free car vacuum, trying to play it off as part of his ‘cool loner’ façade, but screaming internally the whole time.

Laughing, Matt jammed his skinny body between the vacuum and air pump, getting right up into Keith’s personal space with a massive grin.

“Flustered or something, cadet?” he teased. Keith flipped up his hood and pursed his lips, glaring hard at the list of carwash prices in a pitiful effort to hide his embarrassment.

“It’s okay,” Matt continued with a sigh. “I mean, _everyone_ in the garrison wants Shiro’s D. Including me. I mean not that he’d notice it, the guy’s too humble for his own good—.”

Somewhere around the word “me”, Matt had managed to get a surprisingly swift glare from Keith, but the grin on his face read that this was his exact intention.

“Oho?” Matt rolled up onto his toes. “What kind of reaction was that? You couldn’t possibly be,” he paused for dramatic effect, pressing his fingertips gently to his cheek like a chagrined Austin heroine. “ _Jealous_ , could you?”

“Get bent,” Keith grunted, shuffling off purposefully towards the SUV. Matt skipped beside him like a giddy cupid.

“It sure would be unfortunate if my dad and I were to go out grocery shopping for a few hours,” he mused loudly. “Leaving you and Shiro at the cabin… all alone… with nothing to accompany you but a master bed and mood lighting…”

Keith snapped out of the memory as Shiro flicked on the lights, dimming them down to a temperate brightness. The elder of the two glanced back at him, a little puzzled. Keith figured that he’d been staring into space angrily. He couldn’t process more than a few things at a time with the headache he was _still_ sporting. At least he’d been able to puke and rally at the Burger King.

“We should get our things up to our ro—,” Shiro was beginning to say, before he was rudely interrupted by the lights flickering off.


	3. Three

Shiro and Keith stood in the darkness for a good chunk of time, just staring at each other.

“Uh,” said Keith, very eloquently.

“Maybe,” Shiro looked around the living room. “I don’t – it should be back on in a second, let’s wait.”

Keith nodded, shuffling into the center of the room. It wasn’t too terribly cold inside – apparently Mr. Holt had the foresight to turn on the heater to about fifty or so when he’d visited last weekend so that the heater wouldn’t have to work its way up from thirty – but a little bit of a chill was already beginning to seep into the room, drawing the pair instinctually closer.

Shiro turned back to the wall, toggling the switch several times before stepping over to the wet bar. None of the lights on the glass rack seemed to be working either. He jumped when a speaker on the counter immediately blared to life with a sexy beat seemingly of its own volition:

“ _I’VE BEEN REALLY TRYIN’, BABY_ —.”

“I think uh,” Keith coughed awkwardly. “I think its wireless.”

“— _TRYING TO HOLD BACK THIS FEELING FOR SO LONG_ —.”

“Yeah there’s,” Shiro stumbled over his words, picking up the speaker. “It looks like it responds to a remote stream on someone’s computer or phone.”

* * *

“Matt, what’s so funny over there?” Mr. Holt turned to his son, who was smiling down at his phone.

“Oh, no reason,” the brunet said sweetly, selecting ‘SHIRO AND KEITH MAKEOUT PLAYLIST’ and tucking his phone away.

* * *

“Won’t it switch off?”

“ _THEN COME ON, WOOOOAH COME ON—.”_

“Someone _broke off the power button,_ ” Shiro said, looking a little disturbed. “…and the volume buttons, _what?_ ”

“ _Let’s get it on,_ ” Marvin Gaye crooned on. “ _Leeeeeet’s get it on_!”

Keith took the speaker from Shiro’s hands and deposited it on the juncture of the sectional sofa, covering it with several tacky throw pillows and an awful throw blanket depicting a majestic lion’s head. Underneath the covers, the sounds of 1960’s Motown continued on undeterred, if muffled. The two stared down at the heap of blankets in mild horror for several seconds before Keith began to snort softly.

Shiro looked over at him, chewing his lower lip in an attempt to bite back the hysterics – but the wide-eyed expression on Keith’s face was enough to break him and the two were soon doubled over in laughter.

“Oh my _God_ ,” Keith panted through his giggles. “ _What?”_

“I have no idea!” Shiro laughed, bursting into another round of guffaws as he re-spotted the ridiculous lion blanket. “How does this _happen_? What is going _on_?”

“I’m going to go out on a limb and say that Matt had something to do with it,” Keith said, opening his Instagram app in order to document the incident.

“I’ll say,” Shiro sighed, digging his own phone out of his pocket and dialing up his friend.

“Yo yo yiggity yo,” Matt chirped, picking up after only the second ring. “Matty here.”

“…Matt,” the elder responded after a pause, “Something’s going on up here and—.”

“It couldn’t be that you’re having any _technical difficulties,_ could it Shirogane-senpai?” Matt replied sarcastically.

“Okay, first of all you don’t get to call me ‘senpai’ just because I’m Japanese,” Shiro scowled. “Second of all: we can deal with the music, but cutting off the power is a bit much, Matt.”

“Wait, power?” Matt’s tone noticeably shifted. He then muttered: “That wasn’t part of the plan…”

“What did you say?” Shiro questioned accusatorily, knowing full well what Matt had said.

“Uh. I said: ‘gosh dang, I’d sure like to pick up some SPAM’!” he fibbed. “But uh. No. With the power. That. That does not sound like a thing. But Daddo and I will check on that for you – I’m sure it’ll be back on in a few, we have shittons of blankets in the cupboard under the painting of the bear in case you get cold.”

Shiro glanced over at the infamous painting, which looked much more like the image of a bear as it would appear to someone on PCP – a misshapen mound of purple lumps in a vaguely bearlike shape. It’s eyes looked like it had seen The Void.

“…yeah,” Shiro said slowly, a little too perturbed to get close to it. “Thanks.”

“I’ll give you a call when we figure out the issue,” Matt responded casually. “Maybe the power line broke? Happens all the time up in the mountains – see you in a while,” he paused for a moment, considering his words. “Stay _warm_ you two.”

“Thanks, Matt,” Shiro scowled, already having been done with Matt’s antics since his initial accusation.

“What’s up?” Keith asked, tucking away his phone alongside Shiro.

“I don’t know,” the other boy shook his head, working his hands into his pockets. It was almost as if the damp air was already seeping into the cabin, which seemed completely ridiculous. “Here, let me grab some more blankets, I don’t think we’re going to want to use that one.”

As if in response, underneath the lion blanket a chipper J-pop tune started up: “ _Kiss, kiss fall in love!_ ”

Keith picked up one of the backing cushions from the sectional and added it to the pile, “Okay nope.”

“Agreed,” Shiro huffed a little awkward laugh, starting over to the terrible bear painting. He refused to break eye contact with the portrait’s massive, askew eyes as he dipped down into the linen closet, glaring up at it from between his bangs suspiciously.

Finally managing to look away, Shiro brought the armful of blankets he’d collected over to Keith, who had already retreated into his hoodie. His arms were pulled into the red coat, the neckline pulled up over his nose.

“You look like an angry Pac Man ghost,” Shiro teased, settling a blanket over his friend’s lap. He reached out to tug lightly on the hood pulled up over Keith’s head. “The only thing I can see is your eyes.”

“Cold,” Keith complained monosyllabically.

“For someone who’s hot, I find that hard to believe,” Shiro chuckled, and then coughed immediately after. “I mean. Temperature wise.”

Keith shrugged, pushing an arm through one of the arm holes to drape the blanket fully over himself, “I mean, you run pretty hot too, you know.”

No, Shiro did not know. He was always a fairly cold person, and had been accused numerous times of using Keith’s shins to reheat his “ice toes”. But by the way Keith’s eyes were crinkling under his hood, Shiro suspected that he was fully aware of that.

‘ _He’s flirting with me. Is he flirting with me?_ ’ Shiro asked himself in alarm. It wouldn’t be the first time Keith had flirted with him – he’d come on pretty strong when they’d first met, offering a litany of raunchy favors in exchange for Shiro turning the other cheek while he partied. Keith had been promptly refused, and the flirtations had died down as the two became closer (or at the very least, became sincere if he was actually flirting at all). Keith eventually admitted that he’d never even been kissed, let alone got up to any of the shenanigans that he’d offered Shiro. Furthermore, he fessed up to the fact that he’d purposefully been trying to get his goat when he’d initially come on to him.

But Keith wouldn’t do that now, even with as grumpy of a mood as he’d been in that day. With as good of friends as they’d become, Shiro knew that Keith would never pull something like that again.

He settled down beside the younger boy, pulling a quilt up over his shoulders and leaning against him. Keith sighed, propping his chin on Shiro’s shoulder. Skinship had come easily to them once they’d actually started making physical contact. Keith was pretty reserved when it came to touching, which explained why the first hug he’d given Shiro had come as such a surprise.

It’d happened about six months prior, right as the majority of the cadets were packing up their dorms to go home for summer. It was hard seeing everyone else leave, let alone seeing kids together with their families. It reminded Shiro too much of the last time he saw his parents – when they’d helped him move into his dorm his freshman year.


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for death mention and Japanese bone-picking ceremony

Shiro’s okaa-san had meticulously made lists of every supply he’d need until Christmas vacation, going so far as to sketch out a scale model of the dorm room on graph paper and fitting in every bit of furniture in an appropriate place, and tacking everything in place with extra-strength 3M supplies. His mom had carried it all in, sat down on Shiro’s computer, and ordered him an Amazon restock button for Donettes. His okaa-san insisted on sticking it to his desk with a removable strip of Velcro.

“Okay, bring it in,” his mom said, extending her arms widely enough to accommodate her son and wife. She squeezed them both tightly to her, pressing a kiss into Shiro’s hair. “Got everything, Takashi?”

“I dunno,” he’d teased. “I don’t think I have enough Cup Noodles.”

The trio turned to look at the several wholesale-sized boxes of noodles piled on top of his closet. His okaa-san nodded decisively, “We’ll go to Costco when we come visit.”

The three shared a laugh, his okaa-san touching his shoulder gently, “We’re so proud of you Taka-chan.”

“Oh my God,” his mom said, turning towards the door and pressing her palms to her eyes. “Sayuri, _don’t_. I’ll pull up his baby pictures and start crying again.”

Sayuri rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she directed a good-natured smile at her son, “We’re right over in Santa Fe, so if you ever need anything don’t hesitate to call. We’ll come in an instant.”

“Even if you’re stumbling around Albuquerque drunk at three in the morning, you hear?” his mom turned to them, cuffing tears off of her cheeks. “Lectures can wait until you’re safe at home.”

“Mom, I’m fourteen,” Shiro sighed. “How would I even _get_ alcohol?”

“There are ways,” his mother said cryptically, squinting as if she were looking into her own past. His okaa-san redirected his attention.

“You’re going to do great,” she smiled, gently rubbing away a crease from his brow. “You’re going to _be_ great.”

“We have every confidence in you,” his mom said, leaning over to pop another smooch on the top of his head.

Shiro felt himself crumble happily below their affections. He’d spent the entirety of the summer in a state of agitation about leaving home and starting high school (let alone one that specifically trained pilots). It had taken awhile for him to open up to them, afraid his trepidation would be misconstrued as ungrateful. But they hadn’t doubted him for a second, providing him with enough reassurance to fuel all four years of school. Despite the fact that he felt so warm and loved in that moment, he knew he’d either start crying or having an anxiety attack if they stayed much longer.

“Okay, okay,” Shiro laughed, playfully batting her away. “Thank you, moms.”

“Don’t stay up too late, okay?” his mom requested, turning towards the door.

“Okay.”

“We love you.”

“Love you, Takashi!”

“I love you too.”

“We’ll text you when we get home, sweetie.”

They didn’t.

He’d have liked to have that image of them smiling over their shoulders suspended in his mind as the last time he’d seen them. But instead it was just ashes on a metal slab, charred bone between mismatched chopsticks. Shiro would carry that image with him forever.

He felt upset with himself for being so affected by something as mundane as move-out day. Stupid things that that seemed to remind him more of his parents than he would’ve thought – camellias, the rev of a motorcycle engine, the sound of nails tapping on a desk. He’d expressed his concerns to the school counselor earlier that week, and she’d gently suggested that he try to expose himself to seeing his schoolmates with their parents – let himself feel the sad feelings, but not let them eat him alive. It would be much better than holing himself up in his room and feeling like crap.

He’d agreed, and then when move-out day came around, he’d promptly proceeded to hole himself up in his room and feel like crap.

Keith had found him like that, barging in unannounced like always.

“So hey I need your help with this thing—,” he was saying, glaring down at a form in his hands before glancing up at Shiro, who was sitting in bed with his blanket draped over his head like a cloak, eyeliner smeared all over his face.

“…should I come back later?” Keith hedged, stepping backwards towards the hallway. “You look like you’re going through… a thing.”

“Uh, no,” Shiro shook his head, doing his best to throw on a winning smile and clear up his face. It failed miserably, the smile just forcing more tears out of his eyes. “No. I’m just. Listening to sad music.”

“There’s no music playing,” Keith said, shutting the door and tossing the documents down onto Shiro’s desk. “You look like shit.”

“I’m okay,” Shiro swallowed thickly, looking about the farthest thing from ‘okay’ in the universe.

“Right,” Keith snorted, completely convinced. He plopped down backwards on Shiro’s desk chair and began to rotate back and forth very slowly and very awkwardly. 

Shiro made no moves to readjust himself, feeling far too miserable to do much else accept sit there and wait for Keith to leave. He’d had far too many feelings that day, and really didn’t have the energy to kick Keith out or make a motion to help him with whatever form he’d brought in.

“Um,” Keith said after several minutes of silence. “You wanna… talk about it?”

Shiro shrugged. Keith pulled a face, standing up from the chair and settling himself down on the bed next to him.

“You mind if I sit here with you?” Keith asked. “It sucks to be alone when you feel like this.”

“Yeah,” Shiro nodded. “It really does.”

The silence that ensued was strangely void of awkward tension. After a while, Keith got comfortable next to him, kicking off his shoes and pulling himself all the way onto the bed – and then slowly, hesitantly, rested a hand on Shiro’s far shoulder. Shiro let his shoulders sag and – with as much trepidation as it had taken for Keith to touch him – allowed himself to lean on him.

Something had shifted between them in that moment, in that side hug that was surprisingly not as uncomfortable as either had anticipated. And from there, things had been different. Keith stopped harassing Shiro, started asking him questions about his favorite types of spacecraft and airships and soon about his favorite songs and bands. He’d stopped storming into Shiro’s dorm to solicit him for tutoring or just to snark at him, instead letting himself in after a knock, bearing armfuls of old things called CDs and an ancient-looking radio that could play them. He stopped draping himself over the furniture and started draping himself over Shiro. His teasing grew affectionate. He smiled.

They talked a lot about their families, or lack thereof. Keith was a foster kid, who’d been thrown into the garrison as a last-ditch effort by his latest foster parents to ‘curb his behavioral issues’, as they’d put it.

“I’ve been a punk since day one,” he’d told Shiro point-blank as they walked around the perimeter of the duck pond behind the old science building. “I guess I just got pissed that no one ever wanted to keep me and it just escalated from there.”

“What about your parents?” Shiro asked hesitantly. Keith shrugged.

“My mom died when I was little,” he replied, kicking a pebble into the water. “I don’t really remember her. As for my dad, I guess he just fucked off before that.”

“That’s awful.”

“I’m coming to accept it,” Keith frowned. “I don’t like it, and I know it’s not okay, but it was a thing that happened and I need to deal with it.”

He crouched down to search around the ground for a flat rock, “Maybe if I just accept that everyone’s going to leave me, I won’t be as pissed off all the time.”

To Keith’s surprise, Shiro laughed.

“What’s so funny?” he scowled. “I’m opening up my heart to you!”

Shiro shook his head, crouching alongside him and searching for a throwing rock as well, “I know. But Keith, that is the most fifteen-year-old thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Keith bit back, picking a rock and chucking it into the pool of water. “You’re seventeen, stop trying to sound like an adult.”

“Not everyone’s going to leave you,” Shiro insisted gently, his rock following the ripple trail Keith’s had drawn across the water’s surface.

“Pretty shitty track record thus far,” Keith mumbled.

“I haven’t left, have I?”

Keith turned to Shiro, who was smiling at him in that way that once made Keith want to punch him, but now kind of really made Keith want to kiss him. Automatically, their hands sought one another, their knuckles brushing together hesitantly before Keith opened his hand and Shiro cupped it into his palm.

“No,” Keith shook his head, a sensation like bubbly water working its way through his chest. For some reason he also wanted to cry. “No, you haven’t.”

* * *

It was at about that point in their joined reverie that Shiro’s phone began to ring, startling the pair out of a soft doze. Inevitably, they’d managed to cuddle up even closer, Keith completely leaning against Shiro’s chest. Coughing awkwardly, they pulled away from one another, mumbling apologies as if they didn’t cuddle on a regular basis.

“Hey Matt,” Shiro answered, only to be met with a stretch of silence. “Matt?”

“Heeeeey Shiro,” Matt finally responded, sounding more than a little sheepish and mildly scared. “So yeah hey you remember that time I said that things were probably not an issue and that everything was okay? That was a good time, thirty minutes ago.”

“Yes?” Shiro replied, completely suspicious. “Matt, what’s going on?”

“So there was,” Matt coughed. “An avalanche.”


	5. Five

“An _avalanche_?” Shiro said flatly. Keith sat up, clearly concerned.

“An avalanche,” the other confirmed with a hysterical chuckle. “I mean not like a Mulan-level avalanche. Whenever someone says ‘avalanche’ you think of some huge thing like that, right? But I mean there can be _little_ avalanches, they’re pretty common around—.”

“Matt,” Shiro interrupted. “Where was the avalanche?”

“Um. Well,” Matt whistled softly. “It was on the road that leads up to the cabin. And it kind of took down some power lines.”

“You’re kidding me,” Shiro passed a hand over his face, Keith’s brows furrowed.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“The road to the cabin’s blocked, we’re stuck up here,” Shiro told him as Matt continued to ramble on.

“ _Shit_ ,” Keith interjected.

“So yeaaah my dad’s talking with the fire department to see what we can do,” Matt was saying. “And I mean. It’s not looking _bad_ , but it’s also not looking good my buddy. Seems like it’s gonna be morning before we can come up there and grab you.”

“There’s no heat!” Shiro immediately interjected.

“There’s some fire wood out next to the hot tub – you can use that?” Matt suggested, although it sounded much more like a question. “Just uh, throw some lighter fluid on it and try not to kill yourselves?”

“ _Matt!_ ”

“Kidding, kidding… what else? Oh yeah!” Matt audibly snapped on the other line. “There _is_ a generator out back, but it’s in kind of a shitty place with a lot of slippery rocks. Dad doesn’t want you getting up there, so only try to use it if you _absolutely_ have to. If you go down behind the cabin and up the slope, it’ll be next to the shed. Be really careful if you use it, okay? Dad says you should be okay with a fire.”

“Okay,” Shiro agreed warily.

“Uh. Other than that there should be some SPAM in the kitchen for you to eat?” Matt suggested helpfully. Shiro pulled a face, not exactly keen on eating cold meat of dubious origin.

“Thanks,” he replied as sincerely as possible. “Anything else?”

“Just try to stay safe, we’ll see what we can do,” Matt replied. “You might wanna put your phone on power saver or something, just in case.”

“Will do,” Shiro confirmed. “Keep us updated?”

“Sure thing – take care and call if you need anything. Bye Shiro!”

“Matt wait the—,” there was a click and Shiro pulled his phone away, staring down at the screen. “…speaker,” he finished lamely before staring over at Keith. “It sounds like we’re on our own tonight.”

“ _I wanna fuck you like an animal,_ ” Nine Inch Nails droned through the pathetic barrier of pillows. He and Keith stared at each other, making full eye contact.

Overnight. Alone. Cuddling for warmth. In front of a roaring fire.

“So,” said Shiro.

“So,” said Keith.

“ _I wanna feel you from the inside,_ ” said industrial rock sensation Trent Reznor.

“We should,” Shiro pointed out the sliding glass door to the deck. “Get wood.”

“Yeah that,” Keith did not follow Shiro’s finger, but continued to make full, uncomfortable eye contact. “We should do that.”

“ _I wanna fuck you like an animal!_ ”

“Do you know how to light a fire?”

“ _My whole existence is wrong._ ”

Keith’s demeanor suddenly shifted, a devious look crossing his features as he walked past Shiro, trailing his fingertips over his bicep as he passed and said softly: “Of course I know how to light a fire.”

“ _You get me closer to God.”_

* * *

Keith did not know how to light a fire.

Or, rather, he may have, but the tarp over the firewood had been disturbed by the oncoming storm, leaving it damp and useless – and the pages from Matt and Katie’s Game Informer magazines didn’t prove to be very effective.

Keith struck out with one of the last matches, hands and cheeks completely covered in soot. He and Shiro had been crouching in front of the fireplace for over an hour trying to get the fire going, and it was now becoming a personal insult to Keith.

“I’m gonna burn the doll,” Keith said, eying the creepy Raggedy Ann still leering at them soullessly from across the room.

“Don’t burn the doll,” Shiro told him.

“If not, I’m gonna burn that creepy fucking bear picture.”

It actually took Shiro a good amount of willpower not to encourage Keith, but he decided to say nothing instead. Keith apparently wasn’t too terribly serious about the arson, and instead began to rifle through the scant amount of firewood that wasn’t completely drenched and molded over.

“I can’t tell if this is wet or just cold,” he reported miserably, rolling up an advert for Final Fantasy XX and dropping it into the ashes. Settling a new log over it, he struck the final match and pressed it up against the glossy sheets, silently willing them to catch fire. Rather conveniently for the purposes of drama and romance, a draft howled down the chimney and snuffed the match out. Shiro glanced warily at Keith, who looked ready to either personally fight the weather or just go prostrate on the floor and give up.

“We’re going to have to get that generator running,” Shiro resolved. Keith, who looked like he was having an internal conflict about whether or not to punch the log, scowled deeply and stood up.

“Why not? Let’s go.”

“Wait,” Shiro grasped his wrist, stopping Keith in his tracks. “One of us needs to stay here. If they manage to clear the snow and Matt and his dad sees we’re both missing, they’ll come after us.”

He looked out the back window – the daylight had almost completely evaporated and the only thing visible other than the scraggly silhouettes of the trees was the pallid dusting of snow fluttering down thicker every second.

“It’s not safe out there right now – and the generator’s in a pretty precarious position during the winter,” he explained.

“Then why _put_ it there?!” Keith argued, as if this would make the situation any better. Shiro shook his head.

“I’ll go turn it on,” he resolved. “Stay here and try to keep warm.”

“No. Bullshit,” Keith argued immediately, surprising absolutely no one. “I’ll take care of it, you stay here.”

“It’s not safe—.”

“It’s not safe for you, either!” the younger of the two fussed, crossing his arms over his chest. “What kind of argument could you _possibly_ have that you’re a better candidate to turn on the damn generator?”

‘ _Because I really care about you and I would rather get hurt myself than see you get injured,_ ’ Shiro replied silently. The truth was that he didn’t really have a good argument – while he was older than Keith, they were equally matched in terms of stamina and for what Keith lacked in strength, he made up for nimbleness.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Shiro resolved, standing up as well and settling a gentle hand on Keith’s shoulder. Keith opened his mouth to argue, but upon catching Shiro’s earnest expression he glanced away, trying with every fiber of his being not to blush.

“…well I don’t want _you_ getting hurt,” he mumbled, shuffling in place. He tilted his head back and heaved a dramatic teenager sigh. “Fine. I know I’m not winning this one. Do you know where they keep the flashlights?”

“They should be in the garage,” Shiro nodded, immediately relieved. “I’ll go grab one; I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” Keith agreed, settling down on the sectional and wrapping himself up in the blankets that they’d left there. Shiro went back into the hall with the creepy bear, side eyed it for a moment, and then turned into the garage. It was thankfully easy to find the flashlights, which were neatly placed on a low shelf. Shiro also picked up a lantern sitting beside them, knowing they’d need something to help combat the dark in the cabin as well.

By the time Shiro returned to the living room, Keith was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shiro is a fool. SPAM is delicious.


	6. Chapter 6

It took Shiro approximately one minute to locate Keith at the base of the frozen-over hill beneath the generator, another to ascertain that agility and Vans sneakers were not enough to combat a frozen-over hill, two that Keith’s ankle was (at the very least) twisted, and another five to convince Keith to let him carry him back to the cabin bridal style.

Shiro deposited Keith’s soggy form onto the couch, immediately going for the offending foot. The garrison was pretty thorough in providing cadets with first aid and he felt he had a pretty good grip on treating a sprained ankle, having suffered from one or two in his childhood. Careful not to jostle it, Shiro helped Keith out of his shoe, wincing at his ankle which was already puffy and mottled with purple.

“RICE,” Shiro mumbled to himself, grabbing for the stack of pillows at the juncture of the sectional.

“What do we need rice for?” Keith quipped quietly, attempting to struggle out of his other shoe. He’d been surprisingly quiet during the entire trip back up to the cabin, clearly chagrined at his position, and maybe even a bit guilty.

“Rest, ice, compression, elevation,” Shiro reported back with the precision of an overachiever. He tucked two decorative pillows beneath Keith’s ankle, the crooning tones of Neil Diamond blaring clearly through the speaker in their absence.

“No ice,” Keith argued immediately, plucking at his drenched sweatshirt. “I’m already freezing.”

Shiro pulled a face, “It’ll help the swelling.”

“No ice,” Keith said firmly, making his grumpiest face. Combined with his wet hair, it made him look like a recently-bathed cat and Shiro had to glance away to hide his smile – not that it had worked.

“What’re you grinning at?” Keith wriggled around in place, trying to get Shiro to face him, and hissing when he inevitably jostled his hurt ankle.

Shiro turned to face him immediately, steadying his lower leg. “Rest,” he reminded him, standing up and heading for the bathroom to look for an Ace bandage.

“You still didn’t tell me what you were smiling about!” Keith shouted at him as Shiro ducked into the room and began to pick through the contents of the drawer under the sink.

“It’s because you’re cute,” Shiro admitted softly enough that Keith wouldn’t hear – but lo and behold, Keith managed to and made an indignant noise in response.

“ _Cute_?” he spat, sitting up from where he was reclined against the speaker barricade. “What about this strikes you as cute?”

“You look like a grumpy wet cat,” Shiro told him honestly, coming back into the room with the wrappings and a towel. He knelt by Keith’s gym bag. “It’s… pretty cute. Is it okay if I grab you a change of clothes?”

“Don’t change the subject!” the younger of the two snapped. “Yeah, I think I’ll get hypothermia if I keep wearing these.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Shiro admitted, tugging a pair of jeans and a sweater from the bag and setting them aside.

“I was _joking_!”

“It’s going to get pretty cold in here,” Shiro told Keith, carrying the bundle of clothes back to him. “Let me wrap your ankle first, and then I can help you to the bathroom to change.”

“I’m not six, Shiro, I can change in front of you,” Keith grumbled, shifting his foot into Shiro’s lap as he sat down beside him. Shiro deposited the towel onto his lap and got to work, brows furrowed as he explained his reasoning.

“I just don’t know if Matt and his dad will come home, it’d be pretty awkward if—”

“They got the wrong idea?” Keith leered at Shiro with a playful grin, making the other choke.

“No! I was going to say if they walked in on you half-naked,” he finished, glancing away for a second and chewing the bottom of his lip awkwardly.

Keith shrugged, “I don’t care.”                                             

“I do!” Shiro blushed, clipping the wrapping into place.

“I’ll take my chances,” the younger resolved, shifting into a sitting position and shucking off his top. Shiro immediately turned away to face him, glaring hard into the soulless eyes of the fabric doll sitting behind the couch. Desperate for something to do, he stood up (keeping his back conveniently angled towards Keith) and turned its little chair around so that it faced the wall instead. Now he just had to figure out how to cover up the creepy bear—

“Shiro.”

Shiro immediately turned around, blushing when he did. Keith was standing in the middle of the living room in nothing but his boxers and the towel draped around his shoulders. He looked almost sheepish, ducking his head down a little.

“I’m kind of cold,” he admitted. “Could you come here?”

‘ _Blrhfrahfjdlsl_ ,’said Shiro’s brain.

“Sure,” said Shiro, swallowing thickly. He stood in front of Keith awkwardly, unsure of what to do. Keith clearly had ideas of his own and promptly unzipped Shiro’s parka, winding his arms into it around Shiro’s waist and pressing himself against him. The situation immediately got a lot less sexy as soon as Shiro noticed how violently Keith was shivering, his freezing skin penetrating his shirt.

“Hey,” he intoned, brow furrowed in concern, his arms wrapping around Keith in turn. He reached up to grab the towel, rubbing it vigorously over Keith’s head and shoulders in order to encourage friction. “You’re freezing cold, you should get dressed.”

“You’re so warm. I don’t want to get dressed,” Keith mumbled into Shiro’s chest, resting his cheek there. “I want you.”

This was a situation that would lead to, as Matt would describe it, a “one-way ticket to boner town” and that was definitely certainly _absolutely_ not what either of them needed right that second. Or maybe it was considering how cold Keith was—

‘ _NO_ ,’ Shiro yelled internally at his own horny teenage thoughts. He cleared his throat and attempted to clear his mind.

And then “Kiss the Girl” from The Little Mermaid began playing.

Shiro made a mental note to leave Matt very high up in a tree.

“Keith, do you wanna,” Shiro began, glancing down at the very beautiful young man in his arms.

“…yeah?” Keith asked, looking up at Shiro with big violet eyes, somehow managing to snuggle impossibly closer to Shiro.

“Do you wanna,” Shiro licked his lips. “Play Contact?”


	7. Seven

The amorous look immediately left Keith’s face, his expression dropping like a fire curtain over a troupe of unsuspecting thespians.

“What,” he said flatly. It wasn’t even a question.

“Do you wanna, you know, play Contact?” Shiro pulled away and began to fuss with the electric lantern he’d salvaged from the garage. “We have a lot of time to kill and I’m not really tired and maybe I can grab you something to eat. SPAM isn’t _too_ bad—.”

“No, I’m not too hungry…” Keith said slowly, beginning to pull on the rest of his dry clothes. Maybe he should’ve tried the ‘I’m cold’ line on Shiro when he was completely naked. That would have probably gotten the point across much better.

But Keith was beginning to suspect that he’d gotten the point across _very_ well and that Shiro was freaking out for it, rambling at ten thousand awkward quips an hour. Tugging on his sweater, he guiltily considered that he’d been misreading Shiro the entire time – maybe all the embarrassment had just been due to being _uncomfortable_ and not because he had a crush… but he _had_ carried Keith bridal-style back into the cabin and began to fuss over him immediately. Was that just him being a good friend?

Keith didn’t know. He made to sit back down to contemplate these facts, but managed to put pressure on his wounded ankle in the process.

“ _Ow fuck_!” he swore, all but collapsing back onto the couch. This seemed to immediately grasp Shiro’s attention and he abandoned his slew of awkward statements in order to attend to his friend.

“Keith, are you okay?” he asked, crossing the room and sitting down next to him.

Keith winced, but nodded, “Yeah, I think I’ll live.”

“Are you sure you don’t want any ice?” Shiro asked, setting a concerned hand on Keith’s knee.

While Keith enjoyed the touch very much, he instantly recoiled at the idea of anything cold touching him in the foreseeable future, “No.”

“Okay,” Shiro nodded, presenting Keith with a concerned little smile that made the younger of the two want to punch himself in the face.

‘ _Stop being so wonderful_!’ he told Shiro silently, allowing the other to drape a blanket over him before he settled beside Keith’s feet.

He was having none of this.

“No,” Keith complained. “Come over here, I’m freezing.”

“…okay,” Shiro replied after giving pause. He stood and wedged himself between Keith and Speaker Mountain, making a small noise of surprise when Keith hauled himself up into his lap and leaned against him.

“You should really keep your foot better elevated,” Shiro observed, looking at the stack of pillows that was now well below Keith’s heart.

“I really don’t give a shit,” he responded immediately, vastly preferring snuggles and slight discomfort to shivering by himself. He repositioned the blanket, dragging it around his body and draping the rest of it and himself around Shiro’s torso. “Doesn’t Contact take more than two people to play?”

“I’m sorry?” Shiro blinked, completely bewildered. Keith concealed a smirk into his chest.

‘ _That easily distracted, huh_?’ he thought a little smugly.

“You said like five minutes ago we should play Contact,” Keith reminded Shiro, tapping his chest gently. “I don’t know how we’ll do it with two people, but we can try. You wanna go first?”

“I,” Shiro looked like he was reeling a little, but managed to reply. “Yeah, okay. How about… I give you the first letter and you can start asking yes or no questions? If you get a ‘yes’, I’ll give you the next letter.”

“It sounds like it won’t last very long, but we can try,” Keith shrugged. “Go ahead.”

“Let me think of a word.”

There was a pause of several seconds during which Keith readjusted himself, making a happy noise when Shiro wrapped an arm around him, supporting his back.

“Alright,” the elder of the two nodded decisively. “The first letter is H.”

“H,” Keith repeated. “Is it a person?”

Shiro shook his head.

“Is it a noun?”

Shiro opened his mouth and then froze, “Technically?”

“A name,” Keith nodded, understanding.

“H A,” Shiro replied.

“A place?”

“No.”

“Not a person or a place… it’s a proper noun so…” Keith trailed off, squinting in concentration before snapping in realization. “It’s the name of an animal!”

“H A C,” Shiro nodded.

“Is it a _famous_ animal?”

“H A C H.”

“It’s Hachiko, isn’t it?” Keith smirked triumphantly. “You love that movie, you big sap. Give me a harder one.”

“No,” Shiro shook his head. “You have to go next its—.”

A very sweet tune picked up on the speaker, the living room filled with the resonant noise of a guitar gently being strummed, followed by female vocals: “ _Come on skinny love just last the year.”_

“ _Finally_ , a good song,” Shiro sighed in relief.

“You know, this has got to have been the most eclectic mix of love songs I’ve ever heard,” Keith snorted. There was another pause as the pair sat there and just listened, allowing themselves to be quiet, soaking in the moment and one another’s heat.

Shiro felt Keith ball up his hand into a little fist against his chest.

“K,” he said.

“ _And I told you to be patient._ ”

“Alright,” Shiro acknowledged. “Is it a noun?”

“Kind of,” Keith mumbled. “It can be a noun. K I.”

“ _And I told you to be fine_.”

“Kind of a noun,” Shiro repeated, brows furrowing. “So it can be a verb as well?”

“K I S…”

Shiro froze.

“ _And I told you to be balanced.”_

“Is it…” he started.

“ _And I told you be kind.”_

“Is it ‘kiss’?”

Keith glanced up at Shiro, and shifted higher on his chest, tilting his head.

“Keith,” Shiro whispered, and his voice was hoarse. There were little thrills of disbelief running up and down his spine, radiating out from his heart. “Do you want to—can I ki—.”

 “ _Come on skinny love wha—_.”

The speaker died, and Shiro tore his head away from Keith, anxiety settling in, “The music stopped—.”

Keith grabbed Shiro gently by the jaw, turning him to face him. His hand slid up Shiro’s cheek, caressing him and guiding him down towards his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two things:  
> 1\. Skinny Love is my end-all-be-all Sheith song reblog if u cry everytiem  
> 2\. Shiro's favorite movies are Hachiko and Homeward Bound and he crys everytiem he watches them


	8. Eight

It was different from what Shiro expected: warm but dry and cracked, soft and yielding all the same. After a moment of just sitting there in shock, Shiro pulled Keith closer with the arm wrapped around him, reaching up with his spare to cup Keith’s cheek and pull him in closer. They broke away for a moment before pressing back in, their kisses small and soft and tentative.

Shiro pulled away, looking a little mystified, “Keith… do you like me?”

He could have laughed at that, but Keith chose instead to smile, “I think that’s pretty clear, Takashi. I’ve only had a fat crush on you for months.”

“Oh,” Shiro said flatly, and suddenly a lot of things were making a lot of sense. Keith did laugh that time, but it was not unkind.

“I thought you’d have gotten the picture by now… sorry I had to go about it in such a lame way,” he mumbled, scratching at the back of his head awkwardly. “I was worried I was making you uncomfortable by coming onto you so hard… so I wanted to see.”

“No, Keith!” Shiro shook his head, gathering up one of Keith’s cold hands in his. “I… it was really sweet and romantic.”

Keith ducked his head with another little laugh, eyes scrunching warmly as he blushed, “Thanks.”

“I… kind of really like you, too?” Shiro said very softly. Keith looked up at him, expression brighter than Shiro could ever recall it being. “I’ve liked you since you opened up to me over the summer. I know we’re really physical with each other, but I could never tell if it was… more than just that?”

Keith nodded, holding Shiro’s cheek, “It was definitely more to me.”

“I’m glad,” Shiro laughed, bringing Keith in for another little kiss. The happy little noise he made against Shiro’s mouth was amazing. “So is this a thing you would like to have happen—?”

“Yes,” Keith said immediately, pulling back from Shiro with eyes that were completely manic. The elder of the two laughed.

“We’ll have to take a year break when I turn eighteen,” he said to Keith. “But I’m not interested in anyone else, so…”

“So I’ll just have to aggressively hold your hand until I’m seventeen,” Keith resolved with a shrug. “I’m perfectly fine doing what we’ve been doing until we’re both ready. Sex isn’t the reason I want to be your boyfriend, Takashi.”

Shiro’s heart squeezed in his throat upon hearing the word ‘boyfriend’. He pulled Keith in for another kiss.

“So…” he hedged, blushing.

“So?” Keith pressed, snuggling closer to him. “You wanna make this a thing?”

“I would love to be your boyfriend,” Shiro confirmed, watching with absolute joy as Keith’s face blossomed with the sweetest smile he’d ever seen.

“Same,” Keith nodded enthusiastically, kissing Shiro again.

It was then that the laws of clichéd storytelling dictated that Matt needed to all but kick in the front door, causing Keith to all but eject himself from Shiro’s lap. As he did so, he managed to agitate his ankle, yelping in pain.

“Damn Shiro, don’t break him!” Matt teased, shining his phone light offensively in their faces despite the ambient glow of the lantern. “You guys should get decent before my dad—what the heckie, why aren’t you two naked?”

“Why would we be naked?” Keith hissed, readjusting the pillows under his foot. Matt drooped in disappointment.

“Uh, from your torrid lovemaking inspired by my sexy playlist?” Matt suggested as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Shiro buried his face in his hands and Keith pulled a face as well. Mr. Holt followed his son in, making a sweeping gesture towards the front door.

“Okay kids, grab your things,” he directed. “We got a ride up here from the fire marshal and we can’t keep ‘em waiting.”

“Where are we going?” Shiro asked, already beginning to gather up his and Keith’s stuff, shoving Keith’s wet clothes into his bag as subtly as possible. Mr. Holt and Matt quickly joined in the effort of picking up the luggage. Noticing that Keith was still on the couch with his foot propped up, Mr. Holt sighed in exasperation.

“Tried to turn on the generator, huh?” he asked, smiling warily at Keith.

“Yup,” he confirmed.

Samuel nodded in an almost sagely manner and withdrew a twenty dollar bill from his pocket, handing it over to his son, who whooped in victory.

“To answer your question, Takashi,” Mr. Holt addressed Shiro. “Unfortunately we’re going to have to go home. I’d like to get out of here before the snow gets too bad – sorry to ruin New Year’s!”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Shiro smiled, helping to bring the luggage out front. Matt stayed behind, pretending to busy himself with rummaging through his backpack until both Shiro and his dad were out of earshot. He immediately smiled deviously at Keith.

“Are those wedding bells I hear?”

 “Go fuck yourself, Matt,” Keith grumbled, sinking further into the pillows by his head.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you changed your clothes,” Matt taunted, hitching his backpack over one shoulder. Keith sputtered indignantly.

“I got _wet_ —.”

“Oh I bet you did.”

“Matt I will _end you_ ,” Keith jabbed a finger at him angrily, to which Matt responded with a casual laugh.

“What, are you going to launch yourself at me?” he asked sarcastically. “The last thing I’d want is for Shiro to see you pinning me to the ground so soon after the endless blowjob session that inevitably occurred here tonight—I mean unless you guys are into that sort of thing—.”

“ _Matt._ ”

“You cuddled at the very least,” Matt grinned, raising an eyebrow at Keith, whose scowl deepened.

“…shut up,” he grumbled as Shiro returned to the cabin.

“That’s what I thought,” Matt sing-songed triumphantly.

“Stop giving him hell,” Shiro said, hardly needing to hear any part of the conversation in order to ascertain what was happening.

“Why Shiro, I would _never_!” Matt gasped, looking deeply affronted. His expression dropped as Shiro promptly plucked Keith up from the couch. “Okay, seriously you guys you aren’t even being subtle at this point.”

“You don’t have to _carry_ me,” Keith complained as he clung to Shiro, clearly not minding it one bit.

“I don’t want you to slip,” Shiro returned, pressing a sweet kiss onto Keith’s cheek.

“CONFIRMED!” Matt yelled, pointing at the couple dramatically.

“Get your ass in the car,” Keith rolled his eyes, blushing deeply.

* * *

The trip went by fairly smoothly, Mr. Holt being able to avoid the majority of the snow storm and making great time back to Albuquerque. Along the way, Samuel recalled having promised Keith ginger ale earlier and pulled off of the road to stop at an AMPM, Matt accompanying him inside with a triumphant grin.

“Son,” his dad said, picking up a Canada Dry from the refrigerator and turning to Matt with an amused expression. “You’ve been grinning the whole way back from the cabin, what happened?”

“I think I finally got Shiro and Keith to start dating,” Matt reported, selecting a Snickers bar as a little reward to himself. Mr. Holt stopped and stared at his son, blinking in confusion.

“You mean they weren’t before?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there you have it! I hope you all enjoyed it~! Again, Merry Christmas fxllenxngels!! 
> 
> (Matt kept the Burger King crown and brought it into space with him. He'll wear it when he slaughters Zarkon and takes charge of the Galra Empire)


End file.
